Disgruntled Employee Complains About Customers

When I was in high school I worked at a burger restaurant as my part-time job. It has been many years since I worked there but there are two cases of peculiar customer behaviour that I still do not understand. So now we get to play a game, grab your deerstalker caps and magnifying glasses, because we've got some mysteries to solve:

The Case of the Super-Sizer:

I'm working on cash

When a rather large woman approaches

As I'm debating whether I should tell her that horizontal stripes probably wasn't the most flattering choice, she starts to order -

Hi, I would like a regular hamburger

Actually, make that a Double...

Oh, and can I get bacon on that...

And cheese, too, of course...

 With a side of fries...

Yeah, make that a large...

With chili on top please...

 And extra cheese!

I'm not trying to be mean. Obviously, even though she's overweight she can order whatever she wants... I don't know why she's overweight... it may not be from eating incredibly calorie-laden fast food, it could be genetic, or a gland problem, whatever.

But here's the part that got me:

ME:

Sure mam, would you like a drink with that?

HER:

Oh yes, what flavours of diet cola do you have?

Oh come on!

If you're ordering a huge bacon burger with cheese and everything AND incredibly loaded fries, being concerned about whether you're drinking diet vs. regular pop is like a vegetarian eating a steak and then worrying if the side soup contains beef broth. If you're going to go for it, just go for it. Like cool kids say when peer pressuring their friends to drink more at parties: Go Big or Go Home!

P.S. Before you say anything, I know that picture of the customer is unrealistic and exaggerated.

No one's hair is that red.

Next up:

The Case of the Picky Pickler

 

This day I'm working in the "dressing" area of the store, this is where people come and they get to choose what condiments they would like on their burgers.

So I ask the next customer what he would like on his burger.

Yeah, hi, I'll have lettuce, tomato, cucumbers, ketchup, mustard...

and then, he looks me straight in the eye, and says the following slowly. Emphasizing. Each. Word.

And... Exactly. Two. Pickles!!!!!!!!

So what's with the specificity?

Maybe he thinks I am a lunatic who is going to put a ridiculous amount of pickles on his burger unless I'm reigned in with his harsh demands.

Or maybe he is the scientific type who has previously conducted a pickle experiment

Fist he tried a burger with 1 pickle, and thought to himself "no, that's not nearly enough pickle". So he tried a burger with 3 pickles, but realized that was too much pickle, so then he tried a burger with 2 pickles and found that it was just right!

Then he realized he was a little girl with a fondness for crime and porridge.

Seriously though, I've taken science classes, that sort of experiment wouldn't work due to the nature of the pickle: its size is highly variable. 1 hearty pickle can easily give the same volume of pickleness as 2 size-challenged pickles. 

You might think this is ridiculous, but it's not. And as a professional "dresser" I was more than qualified to put an appropriate amount of pickle(s) on the burger.

So detectives, any thoughts as to why Super-Sizer would choose diet cola when clearly calorie-counting is not a priority? Or why does the Pickler need two pickles only?

I Believe The Children Are The Future

A couple of months ago, the City of Toronto implemented a new green policy regarding plastic bags. Plastic bags now cost 5 cents. It's supposed to encourage people to use reusable shopping bags because plastic bags are bad for the environment.

The change has worked! It is amazing. It has only been a few months but I rarely see any plastic carrier bags! Everyone has these reusable bags and they use them religiously.

I have some. I have a cute little one that folds up so you can tuck it away in your purse. I use these reusable bags... most of the time. To be honest, they are sort of a pain. I understand bringing them when you know you are going shopping. The problem is I don't always know when I'm going to buy something. The solution is to constantly be prepared: always have a reusable bag on your person. This is annoying. I`m a minimalist when it comes to purses... the smaller the better. I pride myself on my ability to fit all my essentials into a tiny clutch. This reusable bag ruins this. Even folded, it`s the size of my clutch. So then I guess I have to wear a real purse... and I really don`t want to.

I imagine other minimalist purse people and guys have this same grievance against the reusable bags. It`s amazing then that the reusable bag trend has caught on so quickly! Do people really care about the environment that much? No.

Let's face it, most people aren't that committed to the environment. They'll recycle sure, maybe even buy a new light bulb... but stop eating meat? Have shorter, colder showers? Stop using their car? No way.
So why then are they willing to inconvenience themselves with the reusable bag? Is it the 5 cents? Are they that cheap? No. That's not it either. If the stores just added an extra 5 cents automatically to the bills to pay for the bags, no one would really care.

So what is it? I'll tell you what it is: shame and guilt. Ever since this policy started, it is embarrassing and shaming to carry a plastic bag. People judge you when you do.

Take this recent shopping trip I had. I was coming home from work when I popped in a shop because a DVD I wanted had been released.

 This is when it got ugly

So you can now understand why this policy has caught on.

Ok fine, I may have exaggerated a little bit... the cashier wasn't really that mean. Here's what actually happened:

Even though the cashier didn't actually say anything, I could feel it.

The End.

P.S. Yes, I did buy twilight. I know it's awful, I know it's stupid... but I really like it. I mean it's a hot perfect vampire who is absolutely obsessed and interested in everything this teenager has to say. Sometimes I wish someone was that interested in everything I said...

Yay Twilight! You're mine and now I can watch you over and over and over again!

I Was A Literal Child

So Google has put these ads up on my page, and I think they are trying to be relevant to the material on this page... the adds that were up today were all about mouse extermination. I feel like Google hasn't quite "got" my page yet.

Anyway, today I have a story from my childhood.

I was in grade 1. At school our teacher, Mr. Barrett gave us a presentation about Drinking & Driving. It was a very compelling presentation. I left understanding that Drinking and Driving is evil and bad and will kill everyone you know!!!

Only the most awful of people do this and we are all responsible for keeping our streets safe! Yup, even me, a 7 year old.

The next day I was in the car with my parents.

Everything was great. I was thinking about all the other evil stuff people who Drink and Drive must do in their free time.

Like burn kittens.

Then Mom asked Dad to head into the Tim Horton's Drive-Thru

I was excited because it meant I would get Tim Bits... which are mini donuts. Pretty much crack to certain children.

Everything was great.

Then I leaned forward and was looking at my parents.

I was hoping there might be some more Tim Bits.

There weren't.

My parents were just happily drinking their coffees.

Wait a second, I thought, Dad is drinking in the car...

This is what went through my head: Dad is drinking coffee. Dad is driving. Dad is drinking while driving. OMFG Dad is Drinking and Driving!!!!!!  

Dad is a DRUNK DRIVER!

I foresaw the future. The Only future possible for those who Drink and Drive:

Oh fuck.

Somehow the rest of the ride was uneventful and in fact, no one died. I thanked God, I was so lucky. I made it out of a Drinking and Driving situation alive. What a miracle!

But now I was faced with a real dilemma: My parents were Drunk Drivers. Drunk Drivers were evil. The worst type of evil, kitten-killing EVIL

 I had to save the kittens.

But they are my parents! I love my parents! I don't want them to get into trouble. If they go to jail what will happen to me?

It was a tough decision. I thought back to all the innocent people and kittens I could save and decided that I had to turn my parents in.

Maybe it isn't too late for them and they can recover and one day not be Drunk Drivers anymore!

I had hope.

The next day at school, after another terrifying Drunk Driving experience (OMG! I survived again!), I approached Mrs. Barrett:

Ummmm... Mrs. Barret.. I have something I need to talk to you about...

What is it dear? Is something bothering you?

My parents have been Drinking and Driving!!!!!!! And they are going to kill kittens, and I LOVE kittens and I just can't let it happen and please I don't know what to do! WaaaaAAAAAAAAAaaaAA

Oh dear. (long pause) Well you've done the right thing by telling me Sarah. 

That evening after school in the playground, the principal approached my parents.

 Oh no, this is it. I've ruined my parents lives.

I was very distraught as the principal talked to them. Then something unexpected happened:

My parents approached me, and they were FURIOUS!

MOM: 

Sarah! Why have you been telling Mr. White that your father drinks and drives?

ME:  

Because he does...

MOM & DAD:

WHAT?!?!?!?

I burst into tears and my parents fumed.

MR. WHITE:

Ok, Ok.. Why don't we all just calm down.

Now, Sarah, why don't you tell me about what you saw.

ME: 

Well, yesterday...

DAD:

YESTERDAY, What are you -

MR. WHITE:

Please, Sir, I'm asking Sarah.-

ME:

Umm.. well *sniff* we were driving *sniff* when my mom told my dad to go into *sniff* Tim Horton's *sniff*, and he did *sniff* and... and... and... AND THEN HE DRANK AND DROVED!

Dramatic Pause.

MR. WHITE:

Sarah, when you say your parents drink and drive... what do they drink?

ME:

COFFEE!!!!

They all burst into peals of laughter. Mr. White apologized to my parents and made some "kids say the darnedest things" quip.

I was very confused.

It was several more years before I figured out that "Drinking and Driving" meant drinking ALCOHOL and driving.

The End

Of Mice and Me

So there I was just happily sleeping one night When I was awoken by a terrifying noise coming from the kitchen.

After lying scared in my bed for a while I figured I ought to go investigate this strange noise. That's what they always do in horror movies, and it works for them.

I go to the kitchen and find the source of the noise

A poor mouse was trapped by a leg that had been caught in a mouse trap. He was bleeding and obviously in a lot of pain. I was disturbed by this.

I knew that I had to put the poor mouse out of it's misery. There was just no way a little mouse would survive a severed limb.

Now this may come as a surprise, but I've never killed an animal before. I didn't know how I was going to go about doing this. I thought about using a knife, but I'm a vegetarian and a wuss and there was no way I was going to be able to do that. After considerable thought,

I came up with the following plan:

Mice have little hearts, right? If I just scare him enough, he'll have a heart attack and die and it will be over with.

Yes, this is a great plan. This is a plan that would receive approval. Surely when this awful ordeal was over with I would be applauded for my courage to do the right thing in the most humane way possible.

Well that's the conclusion I came to with my frazzled and disturbed 4:27 AM brain.

So then I started throwing around anything and everything heavy I could find in an attempt to scare the mouse to death.

Fast-forward 20 minutes.

Now my floor was covered in heavy things, a bottle of Tide had broken and spilled all over the floor. The mouse was screaming and terrified, yet still very much alive.

My plan had failed miserably and I felt shame. I felt so much shame.

The rest of the night is hazy. But at some point someone came and took care of everything and I went back to bed and had terrible nightmares of the events that had passed.

The End.